My Kind of Freedom
by fantafunk
Summary: Upon being reborn into the world of One Piece, a fictional universe which boasts both a global totalitarian government and a lawless ocean filled with deadly pirates, most people would probably either cower in their homes or try to cozy up with the Straw Hats. Well, I'm happy to announce that I've subverted your expectations! (OC Insert)
1. Chapter 1

To me, anime is an enigma.

Now, don't get me wrong. I sunk countless hours of my time into watching all sorts of shows. From the laughably bad harems, to the soul-crushing depression of romantic tragedies, all the way to the ridiculous monotony of the isekai genre, I've seen it all. But the one genre that really hit a nerve with me was shōnen.

I understand why shōnen is popular, I really do. The feeling you get when the hero finally overcomes adversity and achieves their goal is fantastic. It doesn't matter that even a five year-old could predict the ending - the true entertainment lies not with the suspense of not knowing what will happen, but with the action unfolding in front of your eyes. While shōnen series might not be the pinnacle of storytelling, they certainly have a value of their own. When I was younger, I absolutely adored shōnen. Coming home from school to watch my favorite characters kick ass was a daily routine.

However, as I grew older, this amusement gradually dwindled. I started deconstructing what I was watching, nitpicking over the smallest of inconsistencies and over-analyzing the finest of details. I just couldn't understand how a world could exist in which the power of friendship caused miracles to occur on a episodic basis. I became an anime watcher who preferred _Baccano_ over _Naruto_, or _Made in Abyss _over _Bleach._

And as I watched a group of Marines unload cargo off a nearby ship, I continued to agree with my idle thoughts.

It had been 9 years since my reincarnation into the wonderful world of One Piece. Or, at least, I'm fairly certain that's what happened. I could still be in a coma after that accident, but there's no point in thinking about that. I prefer to keep moving forward with what's in front of me, rather than worrying about possibilities I can do nothing about.

I was born again in a medium-sized port city in South Blue to a poor family of five. My father was a dock worker, and my mother was a waitress at the local pub. My parents weren't anything special - both had brown hair and brown eyes, along with fairly handsome, but unremarkable faces. Genetics dictated that these traits were to be passed on to me. To my dismay, I lacked the crazy anime hair that I had always dreamed of having. I was fine with that, though - I preferred to look plain, since I never wanted to stand out in a crowd. My level of plainness was increased by my parent's decision to name me Emma. I spent a long time trying to think of a plainer name, but couldn't find one that was decidedly duller.

All things considered, it could have been worse. While the threat of pirates was a constant source of worry, the island next to ours had a Marine base, so raids were pretty rare, and always quickly dispatched. Even though our family was poor, we still had enough money to make a humble living, and almost never went hungry. My mother had a friend who worked at the local apothecary, and managed to land me a job as an apprentice, to begin once I turned 12. That would get me a nice source of income, and a decent livelihood, more than could be said for a lot of girls my age. My life seemed set in stone, and I hadn't even hit double digits.

These random thoughts wandered through my head as I crouched in my favorite bush, which stood on top of a hill overlooking the docks. I rather liked this bush, simply because it allowed me to watch the harbor, while still keeping me concealed from sight, preventing people from bothering me. I enjoyed not being bothered.

Yeah, no, a life in this stupid town wasn't for me. For some reason, I was now living in an anime. Not just any anime, but a shōnen. Wasn't I supposed to go out on some grand adventure, sailing the high seas with my own band of scallywags, in search of a treasure that would make my dreams come true?

I wouldn't consider myself to be a dreamer. In fact, I barely possessed a fraction of the passion Luffy had showed in the series. Despite that, I still had a desire to go out there and do something. Get some answers for myself, solve some mysteries, and live life to the fullest. But above all, I wanted to live free. Too many people lived as slaves, both literally and figuratively. Rousseau was right when he said that "man is born free, but he is everywhere in chains." Working a dead-end job because you had no opportunity to get a good education wasn't nearly as bad as actual slavery, but it certainly couldn't be called freedom. If you could call any of my desires a dream, that would be it - to roam the seas and do whatever I wanted.

However, it's one thing to have a dream, and another thing to act in order to fulfill that dream. What was I going to do? Waltz into the local bar, and instantly run into some anime character with rainbow hair and a ridiculously overpowered devil fruit who would join my crew on the spot? This was real life. If I wanted to make a name for myself as a pirate, I'd have to work for it.

But could I really pull it off? I considered myself to be an extreme introvert. In my previous life, I avoided all unnecessary human contact, locking myself in my room for days at a time. I never thought of myself as a recluse, but in retrospect, that description was startlingly accurate. How was I supposed to just start picking up crew members for some crazy adventure when I could barely hold a conversation?

That's not even considering the fact that I'd have to get into fights. Like, real, actual fights, with people trying their hardest to hurt each other. Without a devil

fruit, I'd likely have to resort to using my fists and/or legs to beat up my opponents. The fruit route was out, because I really did not want to give up my ability to swim in a world nearly entirely covered in ocean. On the other hand, the image of my 9 year-old self smacking around a trouble-making brute at the local bar was ludicrous.

Though, if I was being honest, I _could _just pick up a gun, join up with some random freedom-loving pirate crew and see what happens.

I snorted at that foolish thought. How could I be free if I was forced to take orders from some overconfident, brackish captain? Weapons were tacky, too. If I was going out to sea, it would be on my own terms.

Again, don't get me wrong, I really did want to have an adventure. I truly felt like I was destined for more. I was dropped into this wide, wonderful world, full of treasures and secrets that I could scarcely imagine, with my memories and foreknowledge fully intact. To not take advantage of the opportunity I had would be madness.

I stared down the hill, watching the group of Marines lift some crates off the caravel they had just arrived on. The captain in charge was ordering them around in a manner not unlike the way my new mother kept my siblings and I in line.

While I wasn't super familiar with the ranking system used by the Marines, I knew that captains were pretty high up there. You needed to have a certain amount of combat strength in order to get there. It was only one step below vice admirals, a position that required mastery of at least one type of Haki. I was sure that a weakling would never get that high in the ranks.

The man in front of me, on the other hand, seemed to contradict that assertion. He was a lanky, weak-looking fellow, with no weapon at his side. Unless he was a fruit user, I seriously doubted he would be able to last in any serious fight. Yet, there he was, commanding the respect of an entire Marine division.

I could get over my crippling social skills. I could work up the courage to set off on an adventure, leaving behind a relatively secure future. I could even leave my new family behind in pursuit of my goals. But there was no way that I could fight as a purely melee brawler. And that was the one thing holding me back.

Back when I first watched One Piece, it never even occurred to me that the speed at which the characters were moving was utterly impossible. Not just because of the physical limitations of the body, but also the fact that the brain simply should not be able to process information that quickly. This was one of the things that really got on my nerve about the show - no explanation was even offered as to why everyone apparently had the ability to become a superhuman without a devil fruit, or even Haki. No, anyone could seemingly train and eventually get speed, strength and reflexes well beyond what anyone on earth was capable of.

I'd been living in this world for nearly 10 years, and I had never seen anyone move faster than they should have been able to, or lift something far above their weight. I figured that Oda just exaggerated the movements of the characters in order to support the genre and world. After all, One Piece would be much less interesting if Luffy just punched like a normal human.

But as I watched the captain move around, I still doubted that theory. Could the laws of physics in this universe really be that different? Could a human truly achieve super strength and speed just by working for it? If yes, shouldn't everyone be dashing across the town in mere seconds, or carrying massive amounts of material on their own? Nothing seemed to make any sense, and it pissed me off to no end.

I sighed. Thinking about stuff I couldn't do anything about was dumb. Then again, watching the docks everyday wasn't exactly a great pastime either. Better than running around with the other inane children my age, but still. I idly wondered whether anything would ever happen around here.

And apparently, that jinxed it.

Just then, one of the crates down at the dock exploded, sending several Marines flying through the air. A few dozen armed men jumped out of the alleyways, drawing swords and quickly engaging the Marines. A ship silently came around the sharp corner, its approach having been covered by the hill I was lounging on. The jolly roger on its flag was a shock, but not a surprise.

The Marines were able to fight back the pirates who were already on the island, but the reinforcements from the ship appeared to be too much. They were outnumbered 3 to 1, and completely surrounded. The explosion had started a fire, and several buildings on the waterfront were already covered in flames. In mere moments, my idyllic home had been defamed.

Under the cover of my bush, several emotions were running through my body. Fear from the pirates that were about to conquer my home. Sadness for the ongoing destruction of everything I had known in this life. But, most of all, rage, at the audacity of these ruffians. How dare they strut in here and try to loot my city?

I didn't exactly fancy my odds against the pirates, but I didn't care. I wanted to do something to help beat these fools back into the hole from whence they came. And so, filled with fury but severely lacking in critical thought, I exited the safety of my bush and ran towards my house.

* * *

By the time I reached my home, the pirates had moved passed the Marine resistance and entered the city proper. I dodged a few of them, resolved to get back to my family. I didn't stop and think about what I was trying to do - my mind went on autopilot, and autopilot decided that the best course of action was to go towards the pirate horde.

The first thing to bring back some rational thinking was the look on my mother's face when she saw me. She had just wrangled up my siblings, and was in the process of running away from the approaching menace when she noticed I was going in the wrong direction.

"Emma, what do you think you're doing?!" she screeched. "Why aren't you escaping? Turn around and run away now!"

I hesitantly smiled back at her. "I came to help, mom." I told her, as I started to realize that this might not have been such a great idea.

That was not the right answer. "Are you out of your mind?!" she yelled back, even louder than last time. "You're nine years old, what are you going to do?"

I started to answer her question, but was interrupted by a loud snicker behind me. I gulped, not wanting to turn around and confirm my suspicions.

"There's a pirate right behind me, isn't there?" I asked, fear finally starting to overcome my anger.

"Right you are, little missy." A voice said from behind me. "You're pretty brave, coming back to save your family like that".

I swallowed the terrible feeling rising from my chest and turned around. When I realized just who I was talking to, I couldn't help but gasp in shock.

The first thing I noticed was his height. He must have been six and a half feet tall, and had the muscle mass to bolster his frame. A blood-covered scimitar hung loosely at his hips, and an unkempt beard flowed lopsidedly off his ugly face. Despite the fact that he was in the middle of a raid, I could still smell the stench of booze reeking from his mouth. This guy was the dictionary definition of a pirate.

"Unfortunately," he continued, "that won't work out for you. My crew is much stronger than the puny government dogs stationed here, and I've got a bounty of 15 million beri. I'm afraid your little hamlet is getting burnt to the ground."

As he said that, he wore a smirk of pure confidence. The amount of smugness in his town caused my rage, once tempered by fear, to reemerge.

"You're awfully confident in your ability to slaughter defenseless innocent people, huh?" I snarled back at him. "Wow, you're so cool. A pirate who managed to win a fight with massively superior numbers against a disorganized and weak contingent of Marines. Amazing, you're-"

I would have continued my rant, but buddy had apparently heard enough. My mother gasped behind me as the pirate captain grabbed me by the neck and effortlessly lifted me off the ground with one arm. The amusement in his tone was gone.

"You know some fancy words, don't you, brat?" he growled, spit flying onto my face as he spoke. "Well, I better show you why I'm a cut above the rest!"

Instead of responding to that, I simply spat in his face.

Once again, that was not the correct course of action. On the contrary, it managed to piss him off even more.

"You're gonna regret that, kid." he said darkly, tightening his grip on my neck and preventing me from responding.

"Please, let her go! She's only a child!" my mother pleaded desperately. Unfortunately for me, her cries fell on deaf ears.

The pirate regained some of his amusement at her begging. "Sorry, sweetheart," he snarled, "but this one's been a bit too obnoxious for my tastes. She has to die."

He pulled out his sword, fresh blood still dripping off the edge from his last encounter. I nearly threw up, out of both disgust and fear. Noticing my discomfort, the brute laughed, and pointed his weapon at my chest.

I closed my eyes. Was this really how it was going to end? I'd barely started this second life. Sure, I made some bad choices at the end there, but I couldn't believe that it was all going to be over so soon. As he tensed up, ready to end it all, I idly wondered if I would be reincarnated a third time.

To my surprise, that question would not be answered so soon. Instead of getting stabbed, I was roughly dropped, and I fell hard onto the ground. Opening my eyes, I gasped at the sight in front of me.

That Marine captain I was watching earlier had shown up. The pirate was holding his arm in pain, his scimitar having fallen on the dirt. He was glaring at the new arrival, but I thought I saw some fear in his eyes too.

The pirate opened his mouth, presumably to insult the Marine in front of him. However, he didn't even get the chance. Before he could say anything, he was gone.

I blinked in shock, not believing what I was seeing. In a blur of motion, the captain had dashed up to the guy, and kicked him in the side of the chest so hard that he flew right through the wall of a nearby building. I barely had time to process what had happened before the roof caved in on the pirate, ending the threat he posed to my family for good.

"Are you alright, little girl?"

I broke out of my thoughts and looked up. The captain extended a hand. I took it, and he pulled me back up. He looked at me expectantly, and I realized he was waiting for a reply.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I'm good." I said distractedly.

He smiled, and started to run off. That was when it hit me.

"Wait!" I cried, causing the captain to stop and turn around.

"How can you move that fast? That shouldn't be possible!" I croaked out, my throat still hurting from the pirate's iron grip.

He laughed, and knelt in front of me.

"Lots of training, little girl. That's all there is to it." he said as he smiled and patted my head, as if that was something completely normal.

My eyes widened in disbelief. "B-but, that's impossible! You're saying you just lifted weights or something until you could move at the speed of sound!?" I sputtered. A thought coming into my head, I glared at him in suspicion. "You don't have a devil fruit, do you?" I asked cautiously.

He laughed again, seemingly finding my state of denial amusing. "No, I'm not a fruit user. I can't move at the speed of sound either, but I've met many people who can. If you're this shocked at me, I can't imagine what your reaction to an admiral would be!" he replied.

I tried to reply, but the only sound that I could produce was a startled gulp. The man laughed joyfully at my stunned face, then turned around to talk to my mom. After a quick exchange, he ran off, looking determined to stop this raid for good.

I sat back down, and took a second to organize my thoughts. So, you're telling me that I can train in a way that will give me actual superpowers, and allow me to fight people in the way I want, without having to eat some disgusting fruit or use a stupid weapon?

I grinned. Let's do this.

* * *

**AN: ****And that's chapter 1. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this story, but I had a blast writing this chapter. I'm not used to writing in first person, so I'm not sure how this turned out. Feedback would be greatly appreciated, since I'm relatively new to writing and looking to improve. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

I glared silently at my opponent, my muscles tense and ready to strike. Suddenly, I leapt forward, fingers coalescing into a powerful fist that bashed into -

"OW!" I screamed, falling back while holding onto my bloody knuckles. The tree that I had just tried to punch in half, to my dismay, had not moved an inch.

It had been six weeks since the raid. Thanks to that captain, our city had managed to fend off the pirates with relatively few casualties. A handful of buildings near the docks had burnt down, but the fire was extinguished before more damage was done. All things considered, we got off pretty easy.

That was about the only thing going well for me. My mother was furious at my 'idiocy' and had grounded me for a month. A whole month! Why would you ground your kid for trying to help?! Sure, it didn't exactly work out, but you should only reprimand your kids when they've actually done wrong. At least she had to leave the house for work often, so it was easy to sneak out.

Even worse than that, my self-imposed training regimen had not been producing any results. I had spent every day since the raid practicing punches, running around in circles for hours and, when my mom was home, doing calisthenics in our cellar. I got more than a few weird looks from my family, since jumping jacks apparently weren't a thing around here, but I didn't care. If the path to fighting as well as the captain involved exercising in a way that made me look like a clown, I'd go ahead and join the circus.

My determination to succeed had only grown once the captain had confirmed that my goals were actually achievable. Unfortunately, just wanting something really badly often isn't enough to actually get it. Despite the amount of blood and sweat (and tears, but I would never admit that) that I poured into training, I had no results to show for it.

I punched the stupid tree again, purely out of frustration. My already-bruised knuckles flared up in pain, but I barely noticed. The doubt that had plagued my plans for years started to reemerge. Could I really do this? Was it really worth giving up financial security and a stable life just to hold on to an ideal of freedom that might not exist?

"Emma, can we talk to you for a moment?"

I spun around, not having heard anyone come up behind me. I made a mental note to practice situational awareness. No clue how I'd manage that, but I could figure it out. Probably.

Both of my parents were standing there, concern evident on their faces.

"We've been worried about you, Emma. You've been working yourself to death these past few weeks." my father said.

My mother jumped in. "We know you must be scared of pirates after what happened a few weeks ago." she said nervously. "But you really don't have to train like this. The Marines will defend us again if they come back. It's not your fight, daughter."

So, they thought I was training because I was scared of getting attacked again. What a ridiculous notion!

"I'm not scared!" I replied angrily. "I'm just not gonna let those pricks push me around anymore!"

"Emma, language!" my mother yelled. Normally I would back down after a rebuttal like that, but my rage got the better of me once again.

"I'm gonna call them what they are, and you aren't gonna stop me. They're pricks, and they aren't gonna stand a chance once I'm done training."

My mother was about to start yelling, but my father put a hand in front of her, silencing the oncoming tirade. "My daughter, this behaviour is very unladylike and unbecoming of you. What would Mrs Jones at the apothecary say if she saw her future apprentice punching trees all day? If you want to keep your job, it would be best that you stop this foolishness."

Looking back, I can understand my father's intentions. If I didn't have memories of a previous life, I would probably have agreed with him, since the society I was born into valued women who were quiet and didn't make a fuss. However, I _did _happen to have values of my own that I had carried over from the culture of a different world. Values that caused me to react in a very different way.

"You sexist pig!" I screeched in indignation. "How DARE you tell me my place in society!? I'm gonna do what I want, and FIND MY OWN FREEDOM!"

My father was ready to join my mother in yelling till my ears fell off, but was taken aback by that last line. "Emma, you don't mean…" he asked hesitantly.

I smirked in triumph. "That's right! I'm gonna be free of everything! Your stupid rules, the world government, societal pressures! Once I get myself a crew, I'll finally become a-"

I stopped in my tracks. I'd been a child twice, in two different lives, yet I had never seen either of my sets of parents wear an expression similar to what I was looking at now.

There was no trace of the anger my mother had moments ago. My father didn't look at all sad at my insubordination. Neither of them looked happy in the least, either. No, they were staring at their daughter in abject terror.

"Emma, you can't be serious. _Please_ tell me you're not serious." my mother uttered quietly.

"What are you thinking? Why would you want to become a pirate?" my father asked in complete shock.

I blinked, taken aback by their reactions. This wasn't exactly what I expected.

"Pirates are the only people who are free! They don't take orders, have no expectations and are, consequently, able to live life however they choose! I'm not gonna go loot towns like those jerks did to us the other day, but I'm also not gonna bend over for the government!" I replied, getting steadily more angry as I kept talking. These were my parents- weren't they supposed to always support me?

They shared a look, then my father cautiously started up again. "That government provides the only source of protection we have against pirates. What, exactly, do you have against them?" he asked carefully.

"What do I have against them!? I don't know, how could I possibly have a problem with a totalitarian regime that violently enforces its restrictive and borderline fascist rules? That would nuke an island just to prevent its inhabitants from even knowing about a weapon that could potentially pose a threat to the continued existence of the regime? That promotes an ideology that teaches that the slaughter of hundreds of innocents is justified if you also kill a single criminal? That uses propaganda to blur the line between evil and dissident? That fanatically protects a group of nobles who live a life of complete luxury, free from the confines of the law, where they can practice slavery with complete impunity? That immediately labels any opponent of the state 'pirate' and uses lies to bring the wrath of the common citizens down upon them? How _could _I possibly see anything wrong with that?! GEE, I DON'T KNOW!"

Panting heavily, I sat down after finishing my rant. My parents shared another concerned glance with each other. They waited for me to calm down, then started up again.

"Emma, we know you've always been different." my father started slowly, clearly choosing his words carefully. "But I don't understand how you could know, or believe, any of that. I've done my fair share of traveling, and I've never heard several of the words you just used. You know, the world government has done nothing to harm us."

"Your father is right, Emma. We're not sure why you think and act the way you do, but we're you parents. We want to make sure you're okay." my mother added.

Internally, I kicked myself. All these years of trying to appear normal, of just trying to fit in, were wasted because of my shortsightedness and lack of self-control.

After a few moments of silence, my mother continued. "Could you please tell us if something is wrong? We only want the best for you." she said gently. "You're just a child, Emma."

Just a child.

Just a child.

JUST A CHILD?!

"Just a child?! I'm much more mature than that. I can't believe you'd think of me like that!" I screamed, rage once again overtaking my mind.

I turned around and ran. They called out after me, telling me to stop, but I wasn't listening. I'd had enough. I ran far away, through the hills, well past the city limits, into the dark parts of the woods that we were told to stay away from. I kept going until I couldn't move anymore. After running for several hours, I fell down, asleep, both physically and emotionally exhausted.

* * *

Some time later, I woke up in the middle of a clearing next to a stream. The stars shone brightly overheard, peeking out from around the hills, as the moon illuminated the tears flowing down my cheeks.

I was arrogant. Did I really think my parents wouldn't notice something was up? Did I truly believe that I could go out to sea and become a criminal without any issues?

As much as I loathed to admit it, I was, indeed, just a child. After I accepted that I had been reborn, I realized that everyone would treat me like a kid, and that I'd hate every second of it. I had not anticipated the changes that would come from having an underdeveloped, over-emotional brain.

During my past life, I'd certainly been hot-headed. Despite that, I prided myself in always being able to stop and think things through. Now, in this life, that same pride had gotten in the way of rational thinking.

Never before had the doubt that had plagued my second existence been stronger than at that moment. Should I just give up? Staying in this town wouldn't be so bad. I'd have a stable income, protection courtesy of the Marines, and the opportunity to live out a nice, long life. Wouldn't that be better than risking it all?

…

No.

I sat up rapidly and smacked myself repeatedly in the face. A life like that was not possible. I just couldn't do that. Being forced to stay on the same island, with the same people, the same food, and the same life every single day. There was more to human existence than this small patch of land, and I was going to get out there and find it.

Walking over to the stream, I washed the dirt and the tears off my face. As I stared at the child looking back at me in the brook, my determination to see this through became even stronger.

Despite my newfound conviction, I could see what I'd been doing wrong these past weeks. I knew I couldn't do this on my own. I needed an expert; a strong, experienced fighter, who could teach me how to survive in this crazy world. But where could I find someone like that, in the middle of the second weakest sea? Who would teach a small, connectionless child?

Then, it hit me. The perfect teacher was, in fact, right around the corner.

* * *

Like most days, not much was happening at Branch 122. Most of the Marines on duty, especially the younger contingent, were dismayed at the lack of action. Captain Perry, on the other hand, was quite content with the peaceful atmosphere of the base. After all, a busy day for the Marines was never good for anyone involved, something the young blood never seemed to understand.

Surveying the harbor, he watched the last patrol ship return at the regularly scheduled time. It seemed that today would turn out to be uneventful, something for which he was always grateful.

Just as he spun around and started to walk towards the base in order to turn in for the night, a commotion broke out on the deck of the small barque, followed by an undignified, high-pitch yelp. The captain sighed - it would seem that the day's work was not yet done.

The Marines were starting to file out of the ship once he reached the place where it had docked. Several men were holding back the source of the disturbance, which had begun letting out a string of words no one that age should have known. With a frown, Captain Perry recognized the girl he had run into several weeks ago.

Back then, he'd been too busy to stop and have a long conversation with the small child who had brazenly taunted a wanted pirate. However, in the short amount of time he had spoken to her, she had done more than enough to stand out.

In all his years as a Marine, he had never seen a child react to his 'superpowers' like she did. In his experience, children always seemed to accept things without a second thought, especially when an idealized figure such as a Marine officer was talking to them. However, this child had shattered all of his expectations. Not only did she doubt what she had seen, she actively and angrily rebuked the new information he presented to her. That kind of reaction was usually restricted to older, isolated fighters, who had never gotten a chance to see the true vastness of the world.

And now, the child that had piqued his curiosity had just shown up on his doorstep. He walked over to his subordinates, wondering just what she was doing here. The Marines met him with a salute.

"Captain, we've got a stowaway. Saw her trying to sneak off the boat once we dropped anchor. What should we do with her?" one of them asked.

"Just leave her with me. I recognize her, she lives pretty close to here. I'll arrange for a ship to return her home at dawn. Leave her under my care for now." he replied.

The men saluted him once more and walked away, forgetting about the strange girl they had found in favor of the hot meals that awaited them in the mess hall.

"What a bunch of brutes. Roughing a small child who didn't pose the slightest threat. And they call themselves Marines?" she muttered once they had left.

Captain Perry repressed a snicker and looked over the child in front of him. Her knuckles and knees were heavily bruised, her unkempt hair appeared to have several twigs stuck in it, and she looked like she hadn't eaten for a few days. Despite this, the fire in her eyes had not dimmed one bit.

He smiled down at her. "Fancy seeing you here. Tell me, why exactly did you decide to stow away on a Marine ship in order to sneak into a Marine base?" he asked politely.

The girl snorted back. "I wasn't _sneaking _into the base - I just needed to talk to someone. Preferably you." she stated.

The captain raised an eyebrow at that statement. "In that case, what can I do for you, miss?"

She adopted a look of grave seriousness, surprising the captain. She looked as determined and resolute as anyone he had ever seen. Unconsciously, he leaned in closer, captivated by this girl's conviction, and ready to her what she had to say.

"I want you to teach me how to kick some ass."

Captain Perry was used to politeness. After being promoted and given charge of his branch, he had quickly earned the respect of his men, who would never dream of insulting their steadfast and model leader. Due to this, he rarely came into contact with anyone who would dare speak a bad word in his presence. Consequently, after hearing young Emma's objective, he was unable to stop himself from bursting out laughing, causing the girl to blush deeply.

"I'm serious! I really want you to train me! I need to get stronger in order to- uh.. beat up pirates!" she said quickly, the blush growing even darker as he continued to laugh.

When he finally regained control of himself, Captain Perry took another look at the girl. Even though she was thoroughly embarrassed by his apparent dismissal, he was still sure her conviction hadn't wavered one bit.

"Whatever, I'll go find someone else to train me" she said, with a bit of sadness in her voice. "I'm sure-"

"Don't bother. I'll be your teacher." the captain said, surprising himself.

The girl's mood did a complete 180. As she began thanking him and assuring him that she'd be the best student ever, he wondered why he had agreed to that. He quickly realized, however, that the girl's conviction had truly struck a chord with him. After all, in this world, conviction can get you far.

Idly, he wondered what would come of this. Well, there's only one way to find out.

* * *

**AN: And that's chapter 2! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed last chapter! I was really encouraged by your comments, and I'm definitely gonna keep writing this story for now. I've got a good idea of what Emma's fighting style is going to be, and I'll get around to introducing that next chapter. Once again, feedback is always appreciated, and thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe -

"ARGHHH!" I yelled, jumping out of my meditation. "I can't take this anymore!"

My new teacher glanced up from his paperwork, frowning.

"Now, come on, Emma." Captain chided. "I've told you many times that this is the first step. If you want to master your body, you must first master your mind."

"But this is so boring! Sitting still for a few seconds is already dull as hell, and now you want me to close my eyes and not move for an hour?!" I whined.

The Captain smirked once again. Unlike everyone back home, he seemed to be amused by my coarse language, and never tried to reprimand me for it, something I really appreciated. He was a tall, skinny guy, maybe in his mid-thirties, with basically no muscle mass or intimidation factor. His face didn't exactly strike fear in the hearts of his enemies, although his asiatic features and dark hair did make him quite handsome. Despite his apparent lack of power, he was easily the strongest person I'd ever met, and had landed a gig as a Marine officer presumably because of that.

It had been a few days since I made that plan in the clearing back home. I snuck on to a Marine patrol boat and in a crate for two days. Not the most pleasant experience, but it turned out to be a fantastic move. Captain had, in fact, agreed to teach me! In all honesty, I expected him to tell me to join the Marines when I was old enough. After that, I was gonna hop on another boat and go find a different teacher. I congratulated myself for planning ahead, but it turns out that wasn't necessary.

When he accepted my request, I could barely contain my excitement. I was finally gonna be able to fight! In a few short years, I'd be able to dash around as fast as lighting, and knock people through several walls with a single finger. If anyone tried to pick a fight with me, they'd have another thing coming!

Unfortunately, that's not exactly how it turned about. Captain told me that the first step to being truly strong was to sit down and meditate. Once I had gained full control of my mind, I would then be able to pursue physical growth.

…

Huh? This was a Marine captain, not a Buddhist monk! I wasn't trying to achieve enlightenment, I was just trying to get stronger. I guarantee you that Luffy never ended up sitting still for hours like this, so I was pretty sure it wasn't important. So, why did this guy insist that I master meditation? This was the fourth straight morning I'd spent doing this, for God's sake!

"You don't have to _master _it, perse," he answered, seemingly reading my thoughts. "All you need to do is gain the ability to clear your mind. This is this easiest way to achieve that - no monks required. Also, try not to think out loud in the future"

I blushed furiously, and resisted the urge to punch myself. I really needed to stop doing that.

"I understand that," I said slowly, "but I really don't get why 'mastering the mind' helps with beating the crap out of pirates. When am I gonna be as strong as you?"

Captain snorted. "As strong as me? Probably never."

This guy really had a knack for embarrassing me.

"Alright, no more slacking. Get back to work. Remember, you just need to clear your mind." he instructed.

"But that's impossible!" I spouted in indignation. "How am I supposed to not think about anything at all?"

"Hmm.. you're right, maybe that's beyond what a small children like yourself can accomplish." he drawled.

I swear, if this guy wasn't careful..

"How about you focus on one thing in particular?" he suggested. "Try picturing a color in your mind, and simply focus all of your attention on that color."

That was a _bit_ better, I guess.

* * *

"Hey, Emma? Anyone home in there?"

Jumping out of my meditative state, I looked up and noticed, to my utter surprise, that the sun had started to go down.

"You're kidding me." I whispered, dumbfounded. "I did that for a whole day?"

Captain grinned at me. "Not bad, kid. Keep this up, and you'll be decking pirates in no time."

Beaming at him, I stood up from my cross legged position. My legs had cramped up, and I could barely stand, but I couldn't care less. I was one step closer to getting strong!

"So, what's the next step? Ten mile runs? Extreme weightlifting? Swimming from one island to the next?" I asked eagerly.

Before he could answer, my stomach let out a loud, roaring rumble.

Captain snickered. "I think your next stop is the mess hall, kiddo. You better head on down before it closes."

My eyes widened in panic. I might miss supper! I turned around, and was about to make a mad dash for the kitchens when Captain stopped me.

"Wait a minute, kid. I've got a quick question before you leave."

I stopped, rotating back around to face him. "What is it, Captain?"

He adopted an expression I hadn't seen during my few days here - a kind of seemingly gentle inquisition, that maintained an undertone of grave seriousness.

"When you were meditating all that time," he asked, slowly and deliberately. "What color did you pick?"

Really? That's what he wanted to ask?

I snorted. "Red."

Briefly, several undecipherable emotions flashed across his face, before ending in a small smile.

"Alright, you little scamp. Head on down to dinner."

That was all the prompting I needed.

* * *

Several weeks later, the Captain had declared me sufficiently competent at meditating. I never stopped imagining the color red during these sessions - it was just the color that seemed the most right. While I wasn't initially as successful as that first attempt, I gradually increased the consistency of good sessions until I was able to meditate for hours at a time with no problem. Funnily enough, I could no longer imagine a life without taking a few hours to clear my mind each day. Despite the fact that I still questioned the effectiveness of Captain's methods, I was now certain there wasn't a madness to them.

Since completing that step, we had moved on to what he called 'advanced exercises of the mind arts'. Now, I was pretty sure this wasn't _Harry Potter_, but if this guy was teaching me something like Legilimency, that'd be absolutely amazing, and would surpass everything I'd hoped for. Occlumency would be alright, too.

In reality, the 'mind arts' of _One Piece_ were nothing like those of JK Rowling's books. According to Captain Perry, a complete mastery of the mind arts required total and constant control of one's emotions. To my surprise, this also included the ability to 'lock' up certain emotions, and prevent them from getting in your way.

"Wait a minute." I asked, suspicious. "If you're just locking up your emotions for the time being, what ends up happening to them?"

"That's actually not a bad question, for once. Good job, scamp." he responded with a teasing grin.

Caught between my desire to small at the praise and my urge to punch him in the face, I ended up doing neither.

"Why do you keep calling me that? What's a scamp, anyway?" I asked instead.

"It's what you are. Go look it up in a dictionary if you're so interested." he replied.

I shrugged. "Whatever. You still haven't answered my original question, though."

"Right. Well, you're right that you can't just wish emotions out of existence." he continued. "Feelings can be extremely powerful - they affect everything from our motivations and desires, to our best strengths and greatest weaknesses. They-"

"Alright, I get it." I interrupted, not wanting him to go on another poetic spiel. God, that happened enough with this guy. "Where do they _go_, though?"

"You're acting like quite the brat today, aren't you?" he reprimanded, although I could tell he was trying to hide a smile. "They don't _go_ anywhere. Well, for the most part, anyway. Most of the emotion that you push aside will deteriorate over time, as is only natural. Be careful, though, because a portion of your emotions will stick around until you deal with them. Never wait too long to let them out, though - the consequences of waiting around aren't pretty. It's always important to reflect and think about who you really are."

I wasn't sure whether he was still being poetic, or if he literally meant that I was training to control the hormones in my brain. That was actually pretty cool, to be honest, even though I wasn't sure how it would be useful in a fight. I'd probably appreciate it a lot more once puberty came around.

Despite my doubts, after all this time, I'd learnt to trust the Captain. He knows what he's doing, and, even though he calls me a scamp and constantly teases me, I have confidence in his ability to teach.

* * *

It took me a full year to learn the advanced stage of what I'd begun to call 'personal mind control.' After months of training, and more than one accident where I overloaded my brain with cortisol, sending me into an instantaneous panic attack, I had finally achieved a level of proficiency where Captain claimed that I 'wouldn't die if I let you out of my sight'. Not the most reassuring compliment, but considering the man it came from, I'd take it in a heartbeat.

The morning after I managed to hold on to every vestige of my feelings, I stood before Captain Perry, a wide grin on my face. I had just turned 11, and I felt like I could take on the world.

"So, what's the next stage, Captain?" I asked, beaming from ear to ear.

"I'm not sure. What did you suggest last time? 'Swimming from one island to the next', or something?" he drawled in response, a grin stretched across his face.

This time, I managed to take a deep breath, and my cheeks didn't turn bright red. I really had matured over the past year!

"To answer your question…" he replied, slowly. I felt my anticipation building. Maybe, just maybe, I was finally gonna be able to-

"...you're going back home."

What?

Several emotions burst into existence within my mind, and I struggled to get them back under control. Sealing away the disappointment, sadness, and slight anger that I was feeling, I took another deep breath, and met his eyes once more.

"What do you mean, Captain?" I asked carefully, trying to keep my feelings in check.

"I'm sorry, scamp, but I've got nothing more to teach you. At this point, you have all you need to achieve what you desire." he said matter-of-factly, eyes closed in focus.

"But I don't understand!" I cried, my frustration starting to seep out. Once more, I took a step back, and regained control of the hormones that had decided it was open season in my brain.

In a much calmer tone, I continued. "If you remember, I'm trying to get strong. Physically strong. I want the speed and strength you have, and the ability to continue to grow. In that regard, I haven't changed at all." I replied, sounding much more at-east than I actually was.

"On the contrary, my little scamp. You've already met the necessary requirements in order to start becoming strong.

The expression on his face as he said that was a fatherly smile. It made me feel proud of what I had achieved and confident for the future, but, most of all, safe. It was, after all, no different than the smile he wore on that fateful day over a year ago. Despite that, my confusion still remained.

"But how? I don't feel any different." I asked, shaking my arms and legs as if to confirm that statement.

"You're right. In all but one area, you haven't changed a bit." he replied. "But, in reality, you've grown a ton in the most important organ."

Could that be my heart? Maybe my lungs? Couldn't be my liver, not with all the junk food I stole from the kitchens. I tried to think of what it could be - oh.

"My brain." I said quietly.

He smiled again. "That's right. The brain. Your mind - the greatest weapon of any true fighter. With it, I am certain you'll go far."

I felt like I was starting to understand. "So, what do I need to do in order to take that final step?" I asked.

Captain Perry took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair before continuing.

"I bet you've been wondering why not just anyone can be extremely strong, right?" I nodded in confirmation, and he continued. "Well, it's not exactly a lie to say that anyone _can, _in theory, get strong enough to punch through a concrete wall. But in reality, you have to meet two conditions in order to get to that upper level. While they aren't terribly difficult to meet, the vast majority of the population never comes close to fulfilling even one of them, much less both."

He paused, making sure that I was understanding his explanation before finishing it.

"Once an individual fulfills both requirements, they can begin their own path to becoming strong. You've already completed both, so you don't need me anymore - this part is up to you."

Strangely, I found myself agreeing with him. I felt much more confident in my ability to develop some kind of fighting style now that I had this as a foundation.

"Do you think you could," he smiled, "guess what those conditions are?".

I frowned. He said there were two conditions. _Two_?

"Well, one of them definitely has to do with the mind." He nodded in confirmation, so I continued. "Complete control of your emotions, perhaps? Meaning, the ability put them aside when they're a hindrance, but also the capacity to truly reflect on why they exist, and to understand who you are?"

He grinned. "Exactly right - that's what I've been trying to achieve with you, and I think you've finally pulled it off. The second?"

I hadn't the faintest idea. Captain Perry started to laugh. With a start, I realized I had scrunched my face up in fierce contemplation. I finally let out a blush, to Captain's amusement. Damn, I had been holding it back so well!

Ignoring the Captain's antics, I tried to think of what this second condition could be. What would it be in the world of _One Piece_?

"Maybe…" I started slowly, "complete faith in your comrades? But wait, some people who get strong don't have any friends at all. Maybe you could have that, or ruthlessness? That doesn't make much sense either, though.."

I stopped my rambling and realized that Captain's grin had been replaced with a soft smile.

"Not quite, but you're kind of on the right track. To be honest, if you had gotten it right, I would have been quite surprised. You're not even close to being mature enough to figure that one out, scamp." he said, without a hint of remorse.

Now, normally I was used to his teasing, but that one stung. Resisting the urge to yell in frustration, I locked away the emotions that threatened to hijack my body, and tried my hardest to engage him in... _peaceful..._ conversation.

"I know I'm still young. I'd like to think, however, that I've grown a lot during my time here. How, exactly, am I 'not even close to being mature enough'?" I asked, though my tone of voice probably made it sound like a demand.

"Perhaps the fact that you ran away from home in pursuit of power?"

My eyes widened, and my hold over my emotions nearly broke again - Captain really was testing my control. He had answered the question innocently, though there had still been a glint of emotion in his eyes.

"How do you know about that!?" I nearly yelled, my tone most assuredly sounding like a demand this time.

"Come on, scamp. Did you honestly think that I'd forget all about the family I know you have? Of course I checked back on them." he replied with a devilish smirk.

I had, in fact, honestly thought he'd forget that.

"Your mother, as a matter of fact," he continued, "was quite distraught by your apparent disappearance."

"Wait, you talked to them?" I said incredulously. "Why didn't you drag me back there?"

"Don't be a fool, scamp. I can't police you every second over there. And we both know that you'd just run away again."

A bead of sweat trailed down my forehead. Captain knew me too well.

"So, here's the deal. If you go and reconcile with your poor parents, I'll tell you the second condition. I have a feeling that knowing what it is will help you on your little quest." he said bluntly.

I grimaced. "Yeah, I don't think that's gonna happen-"

"Oh, my mistake." he interrupted in a deadpan voice. "That wasn't a deal; you don't have a choice."

And he says _I'm_ the scamp?

Seeing as I hadn't replied, he put on a cheerful smile. He rung a bell, and a Marine walked into the room.

"Well, that's that, then. You're getting on the next ship back home. Oh, and what a coincidence? That ship's leaving now."

The Marine who just entered the room frowned in confusion. "Uh, Captain, none of the ships currently docked at the base are supposed to leave today."

"Well, one of them is now. Tell the harbormaster to raise the anchor."

The Marine saluted and dashed out the door, probably about to complain to the boys in the dock division about the spontaneous insanity of the Captain.

"That's settled, then. I'll see you off in five minutes. Now, go pack your things."

"Five minutes? That's not nearly enough time!"

"Scamp, we both know you didn't bring a suitcase. Hop to it!"

* * *

A few short minutes later, Emma found herself standing down at the docks, about to board the ship that would take her home. Captain Perry stood behind her, waiting to see his apprentice off.

"If you don't hurry on," he drawled, "the boat might leave without you. Wouldn't that be a tragedy?"

Emma sighed, and turned around to face him. Hesitantly, she began to speak.

"I know I haven't always been the best student." she started, choosing to ignore the Captain's comment that wasn't exactly concealed under his breath (Ain't that the truth?). "But I've really enjoyed my time here. You've done a lot for me, and I won't forget it."

Captain Perry let out a wide grin. "Aww, shucks, I didn't think you cared! Thanks, scamp."

"What happened to that nice man I met during the pirate raid? Aren't you Marines supposed to be kind to small children?" she asked, trying to sound angry, but not quite able to keep the amusement out of her voice.

"That was before I actually found out how much of a scamp you are. Alright, for real now, you better get going." he replied with a cheeky grin.

Emma turned around and noticed that the ship had started to drift away. In a panic, she leapt out, grabbing on to the hull of the caravel. With a huff, she climbed up the side and heaved her small body on to the deck.

"Bye Captain Perry! I'm serious, I won't forget this!" she shouted as the ship started its journey into the horizon.

"See you later, scamp! Don't come back here!" he shouted in reply, trying hard to ignore the tear that had begun to exit his eye.

As the ship finally sailed out of sight, one of the Marines approached him.

"That girl really was- hey, Captain, are you crying?!" he said, utterly shocked.

"Of course. A moment as emotional as this deserves a few tears." Perry replied, brushing his face with the sleeve of his coat.

"Wow, I knew you were fond of the girl, but I didn't know you were this attached-" he started.

"I'm so happy she's finally gone!" the Captain wailed, overjoyed. Finally, he was free of her relentless tyranny!

The Marine sighed and walked off, mumbling about his heartless superior.

With that distraction finally out of the way, Captain Perry looked back up, staring at the spot in the distance where the ship had disappeared.

It had been a long time since his own master had taught him the meaning of strength, way back in Wano Country. It felt great to finally pass his teachings on.

Normally, the Captain believed that it was a mistake to feel too much pride in one's own actions. Despite that, he couldn't help but feel good over what he'd accomplished with the little scamp. He'd managed to tame her wild side, and had set her on the right path.

...Hopefully. At least, if she actually went back and reconciled with her family, she'd be able to find peace. He was pretty sure that she wouldn't dodge that encounter. After all, his master had told him that if any child who managed to control their emotions avoided difficult situations like this, then they hadn't actually mastered the mind arts. And he was definitely sure she had them down pat.

That wasn't considering, of course, the possibility that her personality was otherwise changed by some other large, unknown factor that could affect her decision making and level of bravery. But there was no way something that large could exist for an 11 year old girl without him knowing.

* * *

The Marines had sailed back off to base, rushing to get home before dinner. I didn't blame them - the cooking there was divine.

Fortunately for me, that allowed me to go ahead and avoid the meeting with my parents with complete impunity.

...What?! I wasn't ready for that! My parents were gonna kill me! After all I'd done, there was no way I could face them again. Not now. Maybe not ever. I couldn't believe that the Captain wanted me to 'reconcile' with them. That stupid, lousy-!

'Stop, Emma. Girl, you need to calm down.' I thought. I needed to get rid of the anger caused by Captain's ultimatum. To erase the doubt and fear I felt when I thought about a meeting with my family. Just breathe, Emma, just breathe.

Scowling, I stared up at a brisk pace, moving away from the district where my family lived. I needed to get off this island, but I wasn't going to stow away this time - I had already learned my lesson in that department.

There was one problem, though. I was an 11 year old girl, with no money or possessions to my name. How, exactly, was I gonna buy my ticket to freedom?

Just then, I saw a well-dressed couple stumble out of a bar. Both of them were giggling like a pair of idiots, and had already started to shuffle over to the next establishment.

God, what a pair of morons. It was only mid-afternoon, and they were already drunk. I was about to turn around and ignore them when I noticed the shiny stack of berries sticking out of the man's back pocket.

A part of me thought about how both of my mothers had taught me that stealing was wrong, but a rapid application of my emotion control quickly dismissed my apprehension. After all, if those two were stupid enough to get smashed in the middle of a port like this, they deserved to get robbed.

Walking up to them, I deftly plucked the cash out of the man's possession before pinching him slightly on the rear. Assuming that his partner was the one responsible, he immediately grabbed hold of his lady friend and started smooching her senseless, an action that she was more than happy to oblige.

Adults were really gross. I silently promised to never be like them as I walked up to a captain of a sleazy merchant vessel who was ordering his crew around, getting ready to set sail.

Noticing my approach, he waved me off. "Get lost, brat. These docks aren't a place for children like you."

Ignoring his blatant rudeness, I shoved some of my recently acquired berries in his face. "I'll pay you 10,000 ฿ if you take me off this island. I can do some work to supplement that, too."

That was all it took to make him forget about my age. "Deal." he said quickly, grabbing the money out of my hands. "We leave in thirty minutes. Go ahead and make yourself useful."

I nodded in response, and walked over to help lift a crate onto the barque.

A short while later, we had set sail, and I was, once again, well and truly on my own. I hadn't the faintest idea where this ship was going, but I was reasonably certain a captain as scruffy as the fellow who had let me on wasn't going to the local Marine base.

As I watched my home slowly disappear out of sight, I idly remembered how I always picked the urchin background and thief class whenever I played DnD in my previous life. Ironically, in my second life, that's exactly how it ended up.

* * *

**AN: And that's chapter 3! Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed, favorited or followed this story so far. I never imagined that this many people would be interested in what I was writing.**

**A quick note on currency: For this story, I'm calling the currency of the One Piece world the 'beri', or 'berries' plural. To me, that sounds much better than the anglicized 'belly'. The symbol I used at the end is actually the indicator for the baht, the currency of Thailand. Not exactly correct, but it looks good, so I'm not too fussed. Also, it isn't exactly clear how much a Beri is worth in One Piece, but I'm just equating it to the value of our world's Japanese Yen. For context, one JPY, and consequentially one Beri, is about 1/100th of a US dollar. This means that Emma paid around 100 USD to get on that ship.  
**

**I didn't actually end up talking about Emma's fighting style. Sorry! I'll try to get around to that in the next chapter. Hopefully the stuff about the 'mind arts' makes sense - it'll be important for her character later on.**

**10 points to anyone who can guess what the other condition for super strength is.**

**As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Sorry for not updating for 16 months, I was taking a shower. **

**...**

**Just kidding. More in-depth AN at the end.**

* * *

"Emma, can you come here and help move some tables?"

"Got it, on my way-"

"Girl, we need some refills over here!"

"Alright, I'll just need a minute-"

"It's been half a goddamn hour, where's the food?!"

"IT'LL BE READY WHEN IT'S READY, YOU FAT PIECES OF-"

Before I could finish chewing off the drunken sailor who was sorely lacking in common decency, I tripped on a puddle of spilt liquid. Great, now I smelt like alcohol.

"Why is there a puddle of beer here?!"

"It's been there for a while. You said you were gonna mop it up, remember?" said one of the crew members.

Oh, right. The deck erupted in raucous laughter as I blushed in embarrassment.

"Sorry, I forgot. I'll get right to it."

It had been four years since I had bought my way onto this random ship, just desperate to get away from home. While the ten thousand berries I had coughed up to get on was enough to ensure I wasn't thrown overboard, this wasn't a passenger liner. The captain and crew expected every passenger to pull their own weight. As an 11-year old girl with zero knowledge of sailing, I was immediately placed on cooking duty.

Fortunately for the crew, I was not left unsupervised while preparing their meals. This was good for them, not because I couldn't cook; in fact, I was quite experienced from my past life. No, if I had been left alone, I absolutely would have dumped a mountain of pepper in their stew for having the gall to instantly send the girl to the kitchen.

Any thoughts of mutiny by over seasoning the food, however, were stopped after I met my supervisor. She was an older lady, and while I couldn't determine her exact age, I knew she was definitely too old to be living on a ship. The crew called her the matron; I quickly learned that her overbearing nature made that nickname quite apt.

"When you're done mopping, come on down below deck. These boys aren't gonna feed themselves!" she hollered.

It had taken quite a bit of time to get into her good graces, mostly because my previous cooking experience involved me preparing food for myself, not speeding out hundreds of dishes a day for a crew of 90-something sailors. Nevertheless, my time in her care had greatly improved my ability to cook in a ship environment, which stood in stark contrast to the kitchens I knew. As it turns out, basic sanitation was a foreign concept on the high seas.

Walking quickly, I descended the stairs and entered the kitchens. The matron had already begun to chop up vegetables and was tossing them into a large pot.

"We're running low on supplies at the moment, but we should arrive at our destination sometime before noon tomorrow," she snapped in her standard no-nonsense tone. "The plan is to throw everything we've got into a stew for dinner tonight and to feed the boys hardtack for breakfast tomorrow."

I snickered. "They're not gonna like that," I replied curtly.

"Well, that's too bad for them! Back in my day, we'd run out of decent food so fast, sailors would have to eat biscuits for weeks. These new-fangled fridges have spoiled you kids too much, I say!" she huffed.

I knew better than to reply to that, so I kept my mouth shut. The matron turned back to her vegetables, grumbling about the troublesome new generation.

Technology in this world was very strange, not because it worked any differently than what I was used to, but because its distribution was so uneven. The island where I was born didn't have anything remotely resembling a fridge; people stored food by salting it and throwing it into the basement. However, the marine base where I stayed had working electricity, complete with lighting, kitchen appliances, and even air conditioning.

I eventually concluded that, while technology nearly on-par with that of my home world did exist, the fact that this world was so geographically separated prevented new inventions from being distributed. Oftentimes, people wouldn't bother to bring their brand new tech to every poor little island in South Blue. A marine base, on the other hand, was much easier to supply, both logistically and economically.

A marine base also had more political value; if you kept the good stuff away from the street urchins and troublemakers, the marines would outclass any run-of-the-mill bandit, or even lower-end pirates. Of course, because of this, it'sin the best interest of the World Government that the average citizen doesn't have access to high-quality tech, or the information needed to develop said tech. After this realization, the lengths that the World Government went to in order to destroy Ohara made more sense. Maybe all of this tech actually originated from the Void Century, and it's been gradually lost, but the Scholars were close to rediscovering it. It could even-

"Are you feeling alright, girl? You've been staring at that knife for a few minutes," the Matron asked harshly, though I could see a glimmer of genuine concern in her eyes.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just lost in my thoughts."

"Well, get back to work. We've got plenty of hungry mouths to feed."

Putting aside my frustrations with the World Government, I turned back to the cutting board in front of me. Those carrots weren't gonna chop themselves.

* * *

"Yeah, I know the weather is unpredictable, but what's your _best guess_ as to when we arrive?" I asked, frustration evident in my voice.

"I've told you a thousand times, brat. The currents around these parts are shifty at the best of times. There's no point in trying to-"

"Land ho!" a voice shouted from the crow's nest, causing a hearty set of cheers to erupt around the deck.

The captain snorted. "There you go. We'll be docking in a few hours," he replied.

I smiled back at him. "Thanks, cap't!" I quipped, bringing my hand to my head in a mock salute.

As it turns out, the vessel I randomly selected four years ago was an independent merchant ship, meaning they didn't belong to any particular company. From the perspective of someone who lived a life in a capitalist country where the economy was dominated by a small number of mega corporations, the idea of a mercenary trader was downright bizarre.

It made sense, though: there were tons of small islands in the Blues that needed goods moved from place to place, but the demand wasn't so great or so geographically concentrated that any one company could form and be effective. Rather, smaller businesses generally gave out individual shipping contracts for one-time jobs, contracts that would be picked up by crews such as this one. Ships that successfully completed contracts built up a reputation as trustworthy movers of goods, and some businesses would even give exclusivity contracts to ships that proved highly competent. The big companies that did exist tended to focus on other industries; mercantile transportation, by contrast, was dominated by individuals.

Despite my initial assumptions about the bearded man in front of me, the captain of this vessel and his crew weren't terribly unscrupulous. While they were absolutely the types to take the riskier jobs for a bit of extra cash, they were always careful to stay firmly planted on the right side of the law. After all, it would suck if you had to worry about pirates _and _the Marines while sailing on the job.

"That reminds me, brat," he said in a serious tone. "This job's a really big one. The client's been waiting for our delivery for quite some time, and we'll be pissing off some pretty important people should we fail to deliver. You better not screw anything up," he finished with a pointed look.

"Yeah, yeah, I understand," I grumbled. "What kind of cargo are we bringing that's so important?"

"The buyers had been pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing. When we loaded those boxes into the hold, I was told to make sure no one opened them. From what I gather, there's some kind of operation going on Galloway Island, and we're bringing some kind of new tool to help with that," he explained.

"Galloway Island? Isn't that right next to the Red Line?" I asked, frowning in contemplation.

"That's the one. Sorry, brat, I don't have any more time for questions. I think you've got some food to serve?" he said dismissively.

I glared at him. "Yeah, we've got a nice, delicious breakfast coming up, to celebrate the end of the job." I replied haughtily.

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? What's on the menu?"

"Hardtack and water."

"Brat."

* * *

"Are you sure you can handle that crate, kid?" a vaguely-Scottish sounding voice said from somewhere behind me.

"Of course I can! Why wouldn't I be able to?" I retorted.

"Well, it looks pretty heavy, judging by the fact that you've nearly dropped it several times."

"Shut up! I'll be fine," I replied with a huff. "What's it to you, anyway?"

"I mean, it is my job to ensure that the contents of this delivery get to their destination safely. It wouldn't do if someone dropped a crate because they had twigs for arms."

We had just arrived a few hours ago. As it turned out, the "delivery" constituted most of the cargo in our hold, and as such meant that Captain needed all the help he could get unloading. It seemed, however, that one of the locals wasn't terribly receptive of my assistance.

My face reddened in anger. Setting the crate down as gently as possible ("Hey, be careful!"), I turned around to see who the voice belonged to. It was a generic-looking dock worker, with brown hair, brown eyes, and an unremarkable face.

"If you think it's too much for me, how about you give it a shot?" I snapped at him.

"I'm assuming that's a request for help, so I'll take this crate off your hands," he said with an expressionless face, though there was a slight hint of mirth in his voice

"That wasn't a request. That was a challenge." I seethed back in defiance.

A lazy smirk worked its way onto his face. "Oh, was it? Well, I guess I've got to accept, then." he replied, no longer bothering to hide his amusement.

"Yeah, go ahead! See if you can even lift this thing, I dare you!" I raged.

"Relax, kid. I'm not trying to get under your skin," he replied while walking over, coming to a stop in front of the crate.

I watched in anticipation as he bent down and reached around either side of the shipment. Slowly, he began to pull it up, but frowned when it remained firmly planted on the ground.

I grinned triumphantly, jumping in the air and spinning in jubilation. "See! I told you it was heavy. Who's got the twig arms now, you-"

"I'd say that's still you."

Breaking out of my celebrations, I turned around and gaped. The man was lifting the crate up cleanly, showing no signs of fatigue or tension.

"Seriously?! How can you lift that much?" I asked in shock.

He snorted. "It's not really _that_ heavy. I've been lifting crates on this dock for the past sixteen years - if some rookie managed to outlift me, I'd have to retire in shame."

"Fine, you win, I guess," I grumbled. "If you could help me, I'd appreciate it."

"So you _do _have some humility in you. That's nice to see."

I glared at him again, causing him to laugh.

"Or maybe not. Anyway, you're actually pretty strong. This box probably weighs around 300 pounds. I'm honestly surprised you were able to get it off the ground at all, much less carry it off the ship," he remarked.

Part of me wanted to preen at his praise, but I couldn't help but remember my ultimate goal. "It's still not enough." I replied firmly.

He gave me an odd look for a moment before breaking out into laughter, causing me to blush furiously.

"What's so funny?" I stammered angrily.

"Man, kids these days are something else, alright. Tell you what, kid: how about you grab that other crate over there and walk with me to the drop off point?" he asked.

I looked at him suspiciously. "Why do you want my help? You're _clearly_ strong enough to do this yourself," I drawled back at him.

"Oh, he's _definitely_ strong enough to do it himself, brat."

The dock hand grinned at the new arrival. "Captain! It's been quite a while since we've last seen you 'round these parts. It's interesting that you decide to show up now."

The captain's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he nodded back nonetheless. "It has indeed been a while, Tom," he replied cautiously. "I hear your latest endeavours have been quite profitable."

The now-identified Tom's grin grew even wider. "We've been quite lucky these past few months. If things pan out well, I might be on track to an early retirement."

"Wait, didn't you say you've been lifting crates for years? Aren't you a dock worker?" I asked in confusion.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. I do spend quite a lot of time down here. But I also manage some other stuff around Galloway," he replied.

"What kind of other stuff?"

"I'm not sure a young lass like you wants to know something like that."

"Of course I want to know. Why else would I ask? You stupid or something?" I snapped back at him.

Behind me, Captain inhaled sharply, seemingly in anticipation. Tom tensed for a moment, before his laughter redoubled.

"Ha! I can't remember the last time someone used that tone with me. Tell ya what, lass-"

"Emma."

"Emma. Tell ya what, let's bring those crates into town, and I'll tell you a bit about myself and this island."

My eyes glimmered in anticipation, my previous anger having already been forgotten. "Sounds like a deal."

"Wonderful. Meet me in town in a few minutes; I've got a few loose ends to tie up," he stated, walking away before I could respond.

Letting out a breath he'd been holding in, the tension that had accumulated in Captain's body slowly drained out. "You're lucky Tom likes you, brat. He's not the kind of fellow that takes insults lying down."

"What, is he some kind of mob boss or something?" I drawled.

"Be careful what you say," he spat out, causing me to flinch. "You never know who might be listening."

"Alright, I'll be careful," I acquiesced.

Captain sighed as his glare subsided. "That's all I ask for. It's alright if you go with him, but please be careful. Say the wrong thing and you might not come back."

"Aw, Captain, are you worried about me? I didn't know you cared!"

Normally, I'd expect him to call me a brat, or at least scoff at me. Instead, he snorted in response, then simply turned around and went back aboard the ship without a word.

* * *

A little while later, Tom and I met up and carried the crates through the port to the other side of the island. The 'drop off point' was apparently in a small grove in a forest a little ways away from the island's only town.

"Thank you _so _much for your help, young miss. I'm so happy that the delivery came today; it's _very_ important for our island, after all!" said the man in front of me.

The man in question was, according to Tom, the mayor of Galloway Island. Up until now, I hadn't encountered any humans that were visibly physiologically different from those on Earth. The mayor, however, could not have been any taller than two feet. Standing on the ground, he would probably only reach my waist. Perhaps that was why he deigned to stand on top of a podium, flanked by two massive, imposing men who I could only assume were bodyguards.

I briefly considered asking about his stature, but that would probably be pretty rude. Though I did want to learn all I could about how humans in this world were different. Maybe I'd ask Terry later.

Instead, I nodded at his thanks. "No problem. What's in these crates that's so important, anyway?" I asked.

The mayor's eyes twinkled. "These crates contain the new lifeblood of Galloway's economy. You are aware of our proximity to the Red Line, yes?"

"Of course," I replied with a frown. "What exactly does a massive hunk of rock provide in the way of industry?"

"That 'massive hunk of rock' has been the centerpiece of our economy for generations," he chortled. "Tell me, how many items made of metal do you use on a daily basis?"

"You mean that Galloway's main export is minerals… mined straight out of the Red Line?" I posited in awe.

"Precisely! As you know, the world is comprised entirely of islands, and while some are bigger than others, most of them are not large enough to fulfill the massive demand for metal." he explained

"So you mine into the Red Line. Huh, I never imagined that the Red Line contained anything but stone."

"As a matter of fact, over 95 percent of metal used worldwide originates from mining colonies situated on islands around the Red Line. Most of the good minerals aren't located in the upper strata, you see, so it's not practical to mine down from the top. Therefore, most minerals are extracted and processed in the Blues, rather than from Mariejois," he finished joyfully, clearly proud of his island's status.

"So that means that these deliveries are tools meant to help with mining, right?" I asked.

Beside the mayor, both bodyguards tensed. The mayor paused, then looked over to Tom, who smirked and nodded once.

"Well, if Tom says it's okay… young miss, you can keep a secret, yes?" he whispered in a not-so-quiet voice.

"Sir Longstance, surely you jest. We are so close to the completion of the project. If word got out now, there's no telling what could happen!" one of the bodyguards interjected.

"Hold up. Mayor, your name is Sir Longstance?" I asked, trying (and somewhat failing) to hold in a laugh.

"Why, yes it is. What of it?" he asked in a neutral voice, but with a challenging edge. I could feel Tom's gaze on the back of my neck, almost daring me to push that line of questioning.

"Uh, nothing! Just making sure," I hastily replied.

"Ah, of course! I failed to properly introduce myself. How rude of me!" he said, his demeanor rapidly returning to a cheerful state. "Indeed, I am Sir Longstance, mayor of Galloway Island, and president of Galloway Mining Incorporated. And who might you be, young Miss?"

"I'm Emma."

"It is wonderful to make your acquaintance, Emma. What is your last name?"

"It's just Emma."

"Then, Miss Just, I welcome you to our island. To answer your earlier question, these crates contain-"

"Wait a minute," I cut in. "What did you call me?"

"He called you by your name, 'Miss Just'," Tom replied from behind me, humour evident in his voice. "It's rude to interrupt the mayor while he is speaking!"

I glared at him, but nonetheless turned back to the mayor.

"_As I was saying_," the mayor growled in warning. I smiled in apology, and he nodded and continued. "The crates contain a new type of state-of-the-art drill, said to have been designed by the great scientist Vegapunk himself. While the authorship of the drill's design is somewhat questionable, their effectiveness is not. These machines are so powerful, they can blast through stone several thousand times faster than a man with a pickaxe."

"Isn't that counterproductive to mining ore, though? Your goal is to find veins of ore and extract them, not to blast through and destroy them." I inquired.

Sir Longstance seemed put off by another interruption, but that was stymied by my mention of veins. "Ah, so you do know something about our craft!" he declared with an appraising eye. "Indeed, if we wanted to mine as efficiently as possible, we would simply continue to utilize the less powerful drills we already have available. As it stands, however, that is not our objective."

I frowned. "If you aren't aiming to extract anything, what could possibly be profitable about this?"

"Think about it, kid. I'll give you a hint: we're breaking into the most highly controlled industry in the world. Any guess as to what that is?" Tom chipped in.

"I don't know. Drugs, maybe?"

Tom let out a loud snort at my answer as the mayor recoiled in shock. "Not quite, kid. Let's put it this way: we're less interested in what's _in_ the Red Line than what's on the other side."

Oh.

"The industry is transport. You're drilling a hole through the Red Line… so that people can travel between West and South Blue."

"That is correct, Miss Just," the mayor said with a crafty smile. "Surely, you understand the risks posed by such an endeavour, yes?"

"Well, currently, the only way to travel between the Blues is by going to where the four oceans come close to meeting at Mariejois," I posited. "You can't use Reverse Mountain, because the currents shoot you into the Grand Line, and the weather is too volatile to cross on foot. If you're travelling without government approval, you're going to have to go through Fishman Island, but the only place you can get your ship coated is on Sabaody, meaning that making use of that route requires you have to come from the Grand Line. In other words, inter-Blue travel without the support of the World Government is nearly impossible." I guessed.

"Very impressive! Such splendid knowledge and analysis from one so young," the mayor exclaimed. "You only missed two options. First, the Calm Belt can be traversed, but not by ordinary ships. One would require a seastone-coated vessel or some other method of avoiding the Sea Kings. Most people would also prefer to avoid the Grand Line, which is the main reason the Fishman Island route is utilized primarily by adventuring pirates rather than smugglers."

"The other option," Tom butted in, "would be to climb the Red Line and descend the cliffs on the other side. Obviously, this isn't practical for people carrying large quantities of merchandise."

"Naturally, then, there are many in the Blues who aren't in the good graces of the World Government, but who need to move products between the seas," the mayor finished. "It's only natural for Galloway Island to try to capitalize on the opportunity, seeing as our island and the Red Line are only separated by a 100 metre strait, and our extant mining operation on the Line itself makes for a perfect cover."

"That's a lot to take in," I said cautiously. "You say you're making the tunnel primarily for those who don't have permission to pass through Mariejois. I assume this means that the World Government won't exactly be thrilled with its existence."

"You'd be correct," the mayor replied evenly.

"Why, then, are you so willing to spill the beans to some random girl who just got here on a merchant ship?"

Sir Longstance and Tom shared a significant glance. The mayor's bodyguards shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, you see, this is something that we aren't exactly in agreement upon. I, for one, would desire as much discretion as possible. However, my associate here doesn't agree with that." the mayor answered hesitantly.

"What's the point of this whole thing if we don't get any customers?" Tom quipped back. "We're almost done - these new drills are going to help us complete the tunnel in the next few days, and then all we have to do is build a makeshift port on the other side. I'm hoping that showcasing our operation to people like you will allow information about it to spread… organically."

"So you want me to advertise your tunnel by word of mouth?" I asked incredulously.

"Why not? It's rather hard to directly contact interested parties, since the World Government is very much engrossed in maintaining as much control over international travel as possible. They usually allow most lowkey smuggling operations to run free, provided they stay within their own sea. That way, there's only so much profit to be had for any one organization, as the geographic isolation breeds fierce competition. If we let the rumours spread naturally, there's a much lower chance that the government will be on our tails."

My frown deepened. "But they're still going to find out eventually. You can't exactly move this place. What will you do if they-"

"And that's all the time we have for questions," Tom interrupted. "Don't worry about it kid, the adults have this one all planned out. The World Government won't see a thing."

The mayor, who had been rapidly paling as I spoke, let out a weak smile. "Of course. Tom here has been invaluable; I'm sure he'll ensure that the government won't notice us."

"That I will, my friend!" Tom exclaimed, perhaps a little too excitedly, though neither the mayor nor his bodyguards seemed to notice. "Thanks for your help with the crates, kiddo; why don't you run on back to your ship?"

"Well, alright. What are you gonna do now?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing much out of the ordinary. I've just got some loose ends to tie up. Bye for now, kid!" he said, lazily waving a hand in the air as he walked away.

I glowered at his retreating form as he disappeared into the woods. Tom clearly wasn't an idiot; he might be right that it wouldn't happen quickly, but the World Government discovering the existence of a tunnel like this was inevitable. Why wasn't he telling that to the mayor?

My thinking about Tom's bizarre actions was interrupted by Sir Longstance. "Well, Miss Just, you certainly are full of fanciful ideas. However, I can assure you that, as mayor of Galloway Island, I have the best interest of the citizenry in mind. When Tom first proposed the idea of a tunnel through the Red Line, well, I was more than a bit skeptical. But a man like him is certainly capable enough to avoid attracting unwanted attention."

"What do you mean, 'a man like him'? What's his deal, anyway?" I asked.

"Well, for starters, he's probably the craftier bastard in the Blues, that's for sure."

Startled, I turned around at the voice behind me. Suddenly, several dozen men emerged from the woods, all sporting matching white suits and hats. Each one also carried a dangerous looking rifle. The man who had spoken wore a black suit instead of a white one, and a certain insignia with five circles in the shape of a plus adorned his jacket.

Jumping up from his perch, the mayor looked around in panic. "Who are you people? What is the meaning of this?" he sputtered, lips trembling in trepidation. His bodyguards drew their pistols, but were clearly just as terrified as Sir Longstance.

"Y'know, boss, I think I might be a psychic," one of the men said in a thick Brooklyn accent. "I've just gotten a vision of tomorrow's newspaper headline!"

"Oh yeah? What'll it be?" the man in black drawled in reply.

"I can see it clearly: 'Citizens of Galloway Island plotting treason against the World Government! Armed uprising against local marine unit, soldiers taken prisoner. Order restored after timely intervention of Cipher Pol Unit 4. All dissenting citizens executed!' How's that sound?"

The boss hummed in consideration. "Pretty close, but you've got one bit wrong."

His gaze shifted down to me, and our eyes locked. His mouth shifted into a terrifying grin. He only spoke one short phrase, but that was all he needed to send a creeping chill down my spine.

"The papers never talk about the execution of citizens."

* * *

**And that's the chapter! Once again, to the small number of people who care, sorry for abandoning this story for so long. Back then, writing felt like a bit too much of a chore, so I stopped for a while. However, after my amount of free time greatly increasing due to recent events, I decided to come back to this story. **

**Amusingly, due to the fact that I kept very few notes about where I wanted the plot to go, I've forgotten 99% of what I originally wanted to write about. Last chapter, I wrote about how there were to conditions needed to acquire super strength, and asked the readers to guess what they thought they were - unfortunately, I no longer have any clue what I was talking about. I think it'll be pretty fun to work around what I have written, though, so I'm not going to change any of first three chapters. I'll just keep writing in the direction I want to go. **

**As for future updates, I can guarantee that there will be at least one more chapter, probably in about a week. I'll try to update weekly beyond that, and I'd say that the odds of me maintaining that schedule are pretty high, considering how much fun I had writing this chapter.**

**Finally, thank you so much to anyone who reviewed the first three chapters. Without the positive feedback I received, I definitely wouldn't be updating again. I hope you enjoyed, and, as always, any feedback is greatly appreciated. **


	5. Chapter 5

The newly-identified Cipher Pol members snickered at their boss's antics. Simultaneously, they all aimed their rifles at us as the black suited man raised his hand.

"Please, wait!" the mayor pleaded frantically. "We are nothing but a humble mining town. Surely, we are not deserving of death!"

The boss put down his hand, prompting the men to lower their guns. "You know exactly why we're here. Don't try to talk your way out of it; you directly implicated yourself just a minute ago, and we all heard it. Trying to provide transportation for smugglers and outlaws, huh? The World Government would never allow that," he sneered, seemingly amused by the mayor's fear.

"If you heard all of that, then you would know it wasn't his idea!" I cut in. "How about you go get Tom instead? He's the one who proposed the idea in the first place!"

"Tom?" the boss drawled. "Who's that?"

Oh. So that's how it was.

"Surely, you must have noticed him! He left mere seconds before you arrived. Tall, blue eyes, bland features; you couldn't have missed him!" the mayor continued, unaware of the precise nature of his current predicament.

"If you really do have another accomplice that matches those features, we'll be sure to get them. Cipher Pol always gets their man, after all."

The mayor's face sagged in relief. "Oh, that's wonderful to hear. Well, I hope you find him soon. Bye for now!"

"Oi, Longstance. Are you for real?" I whispered furiously. "Tom's with them. You've been set up from the start."

His eyes widened comically. "Truly?! Oh, bother and befuddle…"

Another round of snickers echoed around the clearing. The boss cleared his throat, and the agents quieted down.

"Well, it's been fun, but I'm afraid we've got some citizens to murder - I mean, suspects to investigate. Sorry for this, girly. Seems you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Wait!" the mayor cried out with increased fervour. "I'll give you a share of the island's mining profits. Ten percent; no, wait twenty percent, for the next five years!"

"At the ready, men!"

"Alright, you drive a hard bargain. I won't go higher than thirty percent!"

"Aim!"

"Oh, fine then! You win! Fifty percent of all of Galloway's net income. Surely, that's sufficient?!"

"Hmm, not quite. F-"

The boss stopped and frowned deeply. His men stared at him in confusion.

"Uh, what's the matter, boss?" one of them asked. "Can we get back to-"

Suddenly, the boss's eyes widened in shock. "It can't be - why is he here?"

"Boss, what're you on about?" another replied, thoroughly unnerved.

"I can feel his aura on the other side of the island. This can't be right - he shouldn't be here. This was OUR operation!" the boss hissed in fury. "Let's finish this. I need to make a call to the higher-ups. This is not-"

Once again, the boss stopped. This time, however, his expression morphed into one of horror.

"You can't be serious - EVERYONE, HIT THE GROUND!"

As one, all of the agents simultaneously dropped their weapons and hit the dirt. The mayor's bodyguards pushed Longstance down, and I followed suit right after.

One. Two. Three.

I risked a quick glance up. Nothing happened.

"Boss, what's gotten into you? Can't we just hurry it up here and leave?"

"No, you idiot. I just felt something coming. Observation _never_ lies. But what-"

BOOM!

Before the boss could utter another word, an earth shattering explosion echoed throughout the island, and my world was on fire.

* * *

The Captain sighed deeply, as he often did when faced with an troublesome occasion. However, while the source of his woes was usually one of his crew members (most frequently a certain brat), this time, it was the gun firmly planted into the side of his neck.

"So, this is how it is."

Tom smiled brightly in response. "No hard feelings, mate. You should never have taken this job. Galloway's a pretty volatile place these days."

"And you'd know a fair bit about that, I'm sure," he replied testily.

"What, are you accusing me of causing this mayhem? That's awfully rude of you. I'm just doing my job."

"And how, exactly, does that job involve targeting a cabin girl on my ship?" the Captain demanded in a frosty tone.

"Ooh, that's a scary look. Sorry about that, by the way; I totally thought the Cipher Pol boys wouldn't turn up for another week. My bad!" Tom chortled back.

The Captain sighed again. "At least she'll have more of a chance than the rest of us. It's a pity - if I were a few decades younger, I might be able to knock some sense into you."

"It's a pity indeed. If you were a few years younger, you might be able to protect your crew. Oh, well. It's been a pleasure knowing you. So long, Captain-"

Before he could pull the trigger, the Captain ducked low and shot his arm up, punching the pistol out of Tom's grasp before leaping backwards and adopting a ready stance.

"Well, well!" Tom grinned. "It looks like you might have a bit of fire left in you after all."

The Captain scoffed. "I know I can't beat you. But I can't let my crew go down like this."

"You know, there's no point in sacrificing yourself for them. Even if they somehow manage to get away from me, there's no way they'll escape my good friends from Cipher Pol 4. After all, we have this entire island under our control."

BOOM!

Beside them, the town had been rocked by a series of massive explosions. A storm of fire had swelled up, as the panicked residents of Galloway scrambled to get to safety.

"Huh. _That's_ not supposed to happen. On second thought, maybe this operation won't be as smooth as I thought…"

Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, the Captain lept at Tom, fists flying and ready for a fight. Tom grinned savagely in response.

_It seems_, he thought, _that today's got a little something special in store for us all_…

* * *

Slowly, I looked up at the torrent of fire surrounding me. I couldn't hear anything other than a dull ringing noise. Maybe the explosion had blown out my eardrums. I could be permanently deaf. Oh my god, _I might never be able to hear again_-

'Now's not the time for that. Get up and move.'

That's right. Coughing violently, I lifted my shirt up in a futile attempt to stop breathing in the smoke. Looking around, I saw that most of the Cipher Pol agents had scattered. The boss was nowhere to be found, and the mayor was also absent. A few of the agents remained in the clearing, but they weren't moving. I didn't want to look too deeply into that.

I surveyed my surroundings. While the fire had engulfed most of the forest around the clearing, the path back to down seemed relatively safe.

Dragging myself out of the clearing, something vaguely resembling a plan began to develop in my head. Go back to town, find the ship, and run away from this mess. Yeah, that'd be good, right? Town should be fine…

After what felt like hours of stumbling down the path, attempting to ignore both my third degree burns and mounting fear regarding the uncertainty of the situation, I finally rounded the bend and exited the burning woods, catching my first glimpse of the town.

Or, at least, what was left of it. Just like the forest, the town was also aflame.

But that makes no sense. Wasn't the explosion meant to attack Cipher Pol? Why would anyone target both the civilians and the government agents? I doubted any pirate would be responsible, since the fire rendered the town effectively unlootable.

'None of that matters. Get to the ship.'

Ship. Captain. Friends. Safety. Yeah, that's where I needed to be right now. Feeling slightly more alive, I resumed my slow journey towards the port. It was still a quite a distance away, but my injuries weren't so bad that I couldn't make it-

'Move.'

Without warning, my body lurched to the side. Having not anticipated the sudden push, I tumbled to the ground hard. Recovering as quickly as possible, I turned around, trying to get a glimpse at whoever pushed me. There was no one there.

I frowned. I must have hit my head earlier. God, I hope I don't have a concussion-

'Move.'

Once again, my body was thrown, this time back in the other direction. This time, I managed to prevent another injury and managed to stay upright. Glancing around, I looked for anything that might have caused that, before noticing a gun poking out from around a tree behind me.

"Hey! I can see your gun. Come out in the open!" I tried to shout, though considering the state of my ears I can only assume it was not nearly as coherent as I wanted.

Slowly, the guy in question slouched out from behind the tree. It was another Cipher Pol agent, though at a glance he was much worse off than I was. The sleeves of his once-pristine white suit had been singed off, and his arms were littered with a series of nasty looking burns. Judging by the moving of his lips, he was yelling something back. His trembling arms came up once again, and he aimed the gun directly at me.

"Hey, man, I'm not your enemy!" I tried to say. "Obviously, neither of us set off these explosions; why don't we set our differences aside until we get whoever blew us up!"

He yelled something back, glaring at me in full force while trying to keep his gun as steady as possible. It seemed that I was not the only one whose hearing had been blown out; my plea had, quite literally, fallen on deaf ears.

I raised my hands to try to communicate in some other way, but the agent seemed to take that as a threat. He took one more second to ensure his aim was pure, and pulled the trigger.

Well, this is it, I guess. It's been a fun second ride. Too bad I didn't manage to do anything cool - I hadn't even gotten super strength yet. My life was surely over- I knew that bullet was going to hit my right lung.

Hold on a moment… how do I know that?

'Move.'

The Cipher Pol agent blinked in shock - even with his injuries, missing three times in a row could not be a coincidence. His aim was correct; rather, I had moved, and the bullet had missed. It was a simple fact, but one which I recognized had far-reaching consequences.

I had awakened Observation Haki.

Normally, I would have been thrilled with my acquisition of what was essentially a superpower, but my celebration was put off by the redoubled efforts of my opponent. Seemingly coming to the decision that attempting to shoot me a fourth time would not work, he threw the gun aside and pulled out a nasty-looking serrated knife before charging at me.

Fortunately for me, my body had just figured out how to sense incoming attacks. His first swipe went wide as I dodged, counter attacking with a firm punch to his stomach, which sent him reeling.

Glaring at me like I was the scum of the earth, his verbal assault appeared to continue. While I couldn't tell exactly what he was saying, I could now feel his intent: the intent to harm me. More specifically, by feinting an uppercut before taking out my legs with a low kick.

Jumping over his strike, I took advantage of his low stance to leap at him and knee him in the face. The agent crumpled over, blood gushing from what looked to be a broken nose as he passed out on the ground with a look of utter shock on his face.

Grinning in satisfaction, I turned around, and resumed my journey towards the port.

* * *

The feeling of elation that resulted from my bout with the agent did not last as I walked through the town. I had read about terrible events in my old world: wars, genocides, catastrophic accidents, but I had never experienced any of that myself. Back home, living in a relatively prosperous and safe part of the world, there was a certain level of separation between my life and that kind of stuff. But now, I have come face to face with tragedy.

At some point, it had started raining, meaning the conflagration that had ripped through Galloway had mostly abated, only to leave a heavy bed of smog that perforated amongst the smoldering ruins. Most of the populace seemed to have evacuated, but I could still hear the groans of the injured echo around the destroyed city. There was nothing I could do to help, though; I had to get back to port.

Rounding a bend, I finally approached the port. Two massive warships that hadn't been there earlier today now dwarfed the cityside, each of them bearing the insignia of the World Government. They were the only ships in port. Looking over to where my ship should have been, my heart sank as I saw a mast poking out of the water, no doubt still attached to the hull resting on the shallow floor of the bay.

"Oi, brat… come over here for a second."

Turning around in horror, I saw the Captain. Leaning up against the charred remains of a building, he was barely recognizable: his face was heavily bruised, and blood pooled out from a litany of injuries along his body. The stone walkway around him had been completely torn up, evidence that an intense fight had gone down. I wasn't exactly a trained medical professional, but I could tell that Captain didn't get the better of it. I walked over and slung his arm over my shoulder.

"Come on, get up!" I commanded as I tried, and failed, to lift him up. "We need to go find a doctor or something."

He barked out a laugh. "I doubt there are any doctors left on this island. Those bastards would have made sure of that. They also made sure to destroy any ship that looked remotely seaworthy, including our own," his face shifted into one of deep sorrow. "I'm sorry, Emma. It looks like our days of sailing are over."

I wiped my eyes, trying to clear my vision. I wasn't crying or anything, really! The smoke was just super thick…

"What about the rest of the crew?"

His only response was a slow shake of his head.

I ground my teeth in frustration. "Why'd this happen to us? We didn't do anything to catch the eye of Cipher Pol."

"Wrong place at the wrong time, I suppose," he replied mournfully. "I should have packed up and left the instant I saw Tom; nothing good ever happens when he's involved."

"He works with Cipher Pol, right? I know he set this whole thing up - I hear it from the boss!"

Captain snorted. "I hope you're not seriously thinking of going after him. He's not the kind of man someone from our sea can challenge."

My eyes narrowed. "He's from the Grand Line? Good to know."

"I suppose there's no point in trying to stop you, eh?" he said with a small smile. "You really are as stubborn as an ox, brat. As far as I know, Tom's a loner - he works with anyone who'll pay him good money, but he sure isn't a member of Cipher Pol. He's a bit of an enigma; the only solid piece of info I have on him is that he only operates around the vicinity of the Red Line. No clue how he gets from sea to sea that way, but he manages."

I nodded in acknowledgement. "Thanks for the help. Now, how are we getting off this rock?"

"Oh, brat, I'm not going anywhere. Tom did a number on me, and there isn't a ship left on the island. The CP units are extremely thorough; if they want everyone on this island dead, they'll make sure no one arrives or leaves until every straggler has been picked off."

"So that's it, then," I mumbled. "Maybe I should try to swim. Hey, Captain, how far to the closest island?"

He laughed, clenching his chest in obvious pain. "Don't make me laugh, brat, it just makes it hurt even more. It's nearly a hundred miles away; a scrawny teenager like you can't pull that off."

"Well, I'll have to try! I'm not planning on dying here," I bit back in defiance.

"That's the brat I know. You've got quite the fiery spirit. Don't worry, you aren't going to risk it on open waters; there's another way," he replied, with a glint in his eyes that I couldn't quite decipher. "Run to the other side of this island and you'll find the processing plants. It's where they smelt the ore extracted from their mines on the-"

"Red Line."

"Exactly.

"But what am I supposed to do there?" I protested. "It's a massive hunk of uninhabited rock. Even if I somehow climb to the top, I'll starve to death before I can get anywhere."

"You won't be climbing to the top. You're aware of what Galloway Island was trying to do, right?"

"Yeah, they were trying to dig a tunnel to West Blue." I frowned. "But we only just brought the equipment they needed to finish. That tunnel doesn't exist."

"I'm not so sure about that," the Captain countered. "I've had a theory for a long time. Tell me, brat, after the World Government, what are the most powerful organizations that operate internationally?"

"Must be some of the pirate crews in the Grand Line… maybe the Revolutionary Army?" I guessed.

"Exactly. Many of those crews, as well as the Revolutionaries, hold territory across the entire Grand Line, as well as the Blues. Most people think that they take the long way to travel between their holdings: they go along the Grand Line and then exit through the Calm Belt using a seastone-coated ship."

"Yeah, of course. Galloway was building the tunnel for outlaws who couldn't cough up enough cash for seastone. What about it?" I asked in confusion.

"The funds of those organizations aren't infinite, you know." he quipped back. "Oftentimes, they need to move tons of equipment and large numbers of personnel. The Calm Belt strategy simply isn't efficient. So, I think they've found another way - the Red Line."

My eyes widened in comprehension. "You think that there are a series of tunnels through the Red Line?"

"There must be. If the only way pirates and Revolutionaries could travel through the Blues was using the Calm Belt, it simply wouldn't be possible to mount an international operation on the scale of what they currently have," he finished.

"So, let me get this straight. Your plan is to sneak over to the other side of the island, swim across the channel, and scour the Red Line for tunnels that might not exist?"

"It'll give you more of a chance at survival than swimming, and to be quite frank, there's no other option. And I told you already, brat: my injuries are too severe. You're going alone."

I opened my mouth to protest, but was silenced by an intense glare.

"You don't have any more time to waste. The epicenter of the explosion was on the west side of the island, near the mines; some of the houses around here should still have some supplies you can take. Watch out for CP, and whoever else might be around," he instructed. Looking up at me, his eyes softened. "I'm glad we picked you up that one day. Your antics always lifted the spirits of our crew on the hard journeys we undertake. You may be a brat, but you'll always be _our_ brat. Good luck, Emma."

Not trusting myself to properly respond to that, I simply nodded before turning around and leaving behind the last remnant of the first place I truly called home.

* * *

Looting from the nearby houses and sneaking to the far side of the island had been trivially easy thanks to my Haki. Observation allowed me to sense other people's auras, which was essentially a vague outline of their presence, when I was within a certain range. At the moment, that range appeared to only be around the length of a football field, but that was more than enough to avoid the agents and the remaining townspeople. While I would absolutely like it to be a little larger, I was sure I could train it up later. I had to make do for now.

Hoisting my newly acquired backpack over my shoulder, I began to make my way across the island. Fortunately, the Cipher Pol unit seemed to have dispersed following the fire, erasing any doubt I had about the explosion's origins. Judging by the fact that the agents were choosing to lay low, I had to assume there was another force at play.

Eventually, I exited the charred treeline and arrived at Galloway's west coast. Now that the trees didn't block my view, I could fully appreciate the colossal mountain of earth that was the Red Line. It rose directly out of the sea, unattached to the island, and towered above me, shooting right through the clouds. I couldn't see the top.

Lucky for me, there was a small rowboat moored to a small wooden dock, presumably meant for a worker to cross the strait to the mines, the entrance of which was carved into the rock on the other side. Not wasting any time, I tossed my supplies into the back and got rowing.

Climbing into the mines, I flicked a switch by the entrance and was pleasantly surprised to find that the lights still worked. Grabbing a couple flashlights and a hard hat from a storage room by the entrance, I took a deep breath and readied myself for a descent into the mines, hoping for a tunnel that might not exist.

"Hey, if it isn't Miss Just!"

I whipped around as fast as I could. I was certain that no one was in the area when I entered the cave; I would have spotted their aura. But, as it turns out, I was not quite alone.

"Aren't you surprised?" Tom quipped. "I gotta say, it's pretty weird for a kid in the Blues to learn Haki. In fact, I've never heard of such a thing. Who taught you, anyway?"

I glared at him. "Why would I need a teacher? I'm a pretty resourceful person, I'll have you know."

He snorted in response. "I assure you, it's basically impossible to learn Haki without a teacher. I won't pry if you don't want to share. That'd be quite rude!"

"Just as rude as you bringing Cipher Pol down on this island and causing ten of thousands of deaths?!" I hissed back at him.

"Well, Galloway's population is- _was_ only around 7000 people, but that's neither here nor there," he mused. "And besides, that explosion _totally_ wasn't us, even though they were gonna kill everyone anyway."

"Why would you do something like this?!" I demanded. "This is genocide!"

He snickered in response. "Well, you aren't wrong. I've been working along the Red Line for a long time, and I've learned that the World Government will, without fail, eliminate anyone who tries to take the profits of the Line for themselves."

"But the mayor said Galloway's been mining in the line for generations!" I spouted in indignation. "_You're_ the one who set them up by telling the mayor to build a goddamn tunnel!"

"It's true that Galloway's profited off of the mine for many years," Tom started. "But for most of that time, the World Government held a significant stake in Galloway Mining Incorporated. It was just a few years ago that the mayor, in his infinite wisdom, decided to privatize the company. I think he said something about not wanting those 'asshat World Nobles' to be funded by his mine?"

I scowled in disbelief. "So you're saying that Cipher Pol was planning to massacre the island anyway?"

Tom shrugged. "Yeah, pretty much. The profits are low enough that retaking the island wasn't an immediate priority; the World Government could afford to be subtle. It would have been a while, but they would've done the same tactic they always use: they start by slowly chipping away at the important members of the mining company. Maybe frame one of them for a crime, steal another away in the night, that kind of stuff. Then, eventually, you flood the island with new immigrants, all of whom are WG loyalists, and basically manufacture a one-sided civil war."

"But what's the point of all that?" I barked back. "Isn't getting control of the mine enough for them?"

"For any other group of people on the planet, yes," Tom agreed. "The World Government, particularly the Five Elders Stars, however, are insane about this kind of stuff. When it comes to dissent and rebellion, they don't take any chances. For them, it's better to purge an entire island than to risk having an anti-government uprising because some former mine worker is upset that his paycheck is going to Mariejois."

"It's kind of like Ohara," I muttered under my breath. I thought I saw Tom's eyebrows shoot up for a split second, but he adapted his typical lazy grin before I could be sure of it. Man, I needed to be more careful.

"So let me get this straight," I continued. "The World Government was going to kill off this island's people anyway, so you convinced the mayor to make a tunnel to force their hand early. I assume Cipher Pol paid you for the information?"

"Exactly. Of all the people I've worked with, these secret government folk sure do pay nice," he replied cheerfully.

My face scrunched up in confusion. "Why would they waste money working with a third party like you?"

Tom raised an eyebrow. "I've done a lot for them. Without my help, their stranglehold over the Red Line's mining industry would not be nearly as dominant as it is. They have good reason to keep me around."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," I shot back. "If I was them, and I was determined to squash any possible dissent, I'd target anyone who was a potential liability. And someone like you should definitely be considered a liability."

"What a smart little girl you've got here, Tom!"

I snapped to the sound of the voice, like I had done several times that day, but Tom simply rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Really? _That's_ when you decide to show yourself? Were you seriously waiting for a moment like that in our conversation so you could have a cool entrance or something?"

"Oi, shut up!" the new arrival bit back. "I was gathering information!"

"Yeah, and you were real subtle about it, too. Here's a tip: next time to try to eavesdrop on someone, make sure that your stupid hair doesn't poke around the corner."

Perhaps self-consciously, he touched his hair. "There's nothing wrong with my hair. Don't you think I look cool, and scary, and, like, fierce and stuff?!"

The man certainly cut an intimidating figure. He must have been nearly seven feet tall, and had a massive scar running down the right side of his face. His suit jacket was left open, revealing a heavily toned chest littered with old injuries. The long mustache, goatee, and slim sunglasses should have made him look goofy, but they somehow combined to make him look even more menacing. For me, however, the scariest part about him wasn't his appearance; it was the fact that I recognized him. Of all of the canon characters to meet…

Tom snickered at his antics. "You haven't changed a bit, Jabra."

"Of course not!" the Cipher Pol Nine member declared boisterously. "I'm just as deadly as always. And that's something you should be worried about."

"Well, Emma Just, you never fail to surprise me," Tom announced, almost proudly.

"We've known each other for, like, six hours," I replied in a deadpan tone.

"Then we'll see if you can keep it up, huh?" he shot back jubilantly, not missing a beat.

Jabra, seemingly angered because we ignored him, stomped loudly to get our attention. "You won't be here for much longer, Tom. This girl's right: you're too much of a liability to be kept alive."

A wild grin crept onto his face, and he began to chuckle in anticipation.

Tom stared at him as one might look at a mildly irritating insect. "Oh yeah? And how're you gonna kill me?" he questioned in a bored tone.

Jabra howled in laughter. "Don't think your Haki will save you this time. You know I'm a Fruit user; the difference in power between us is too great for you to comprehend." Suddenly, his features began to shift. His ears became pointy, his mouth elongated into a snout, and grey hair began to cover his body.

"Ooh, a Zoan. Scary. I think your intel was a bit off, though. You see, I'm a fruit user too."

The wolf-man's eyes widened in excitement. "Really!?" he crowed. "Wonderful! For a minute there I thought you and this girl would be too pathetic to be worth my time. Maybe this'll be a decent match after all!"

"Oh, it'll be decent, all right," Tom chortled back. "You see, I've lived nearly all of my life on the Red Line. Terribly inhospitable place, you know. No good food, treacherous terrain, scarce amounts of fresh water. If I didn't have my Fruit, trekking through those caves would be impossible."

Tom sighed. "I really am fortunate..." he said, almost whimsically.

Around us, the cave began to tremble. The pebbles that littered the floor of the mine's entrance shook violently, and several stalactites crashed onto the ground. Jabra's eyes widened even further, and his body quivered restlessly.

"Don't get me wrong; I'm no Logia or Zoan," Tom started. "I'm just the humble owner of a certain Paramecia. You know, many people would say it's an awful fruit. If you took this thing to the Grand Line, you'd barely be able to use it. But in certain conditions, I find that the Rock-Rock Fruit and its power to control all stones and minerals can be quite useful. And this is one of those times, my friend"

His grin broadened, matching the bloodlust exuded by Jabra.

"Because right here, right now? You're in me element."

* * *

**AN: And that's that. Thanks again to everyone who reviewed; I really appreciate it. Please let me know what you liked/hated about the chapter, and I'll be back next week.**


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